


Stone Cold Sober

by Samzi1123



Series: Random Eliot/Nate stories [1]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt Eliot Spencer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 06:17:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6412363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samzi1123/pseuds/Samzi1123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a night of drinking Nate wakes up alone, and as the memories of the previous night come back to him he realizes that in his drunken state he said something to Eliot that could change their relationship forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stone Cold Sober

**Author's Note:**

> I recommend listening to the song Stone Cold Sober by Brantley Gilbert before reading. If you don't thats fine, the fit will still make sense. Enjoy :)

Stone Cold Sober

 

“I let the whiskey talk, and baby it said too much. I got the feeling now, that it didn't say enough. Cause I'm waking up alone, missing that midnight kiss. I can't promise you forever. All I know is I still want you to come over, and I'm stone cold sober.” -Stone Cold Sober Brantley Gilbert

 

Nate woke up with a dry mouth and a dull pounding behind his eyes. Unfortunately, this wasn't an unusual occurrence. More often than not he woke up at least slightly hungover. His alarm clock beeped, angry at being ignored. Nate groaned as the sharp noise caused the throbbing in his head to worsen. He must have really overdone it last night, but he couldn't remember exactly what had happened. The alarm chirped again, and he swatted at it angrily. Instead of hitting plastic Nate’s hand connected with something cool. A moment later the sound of breaking glass followed, and Nate swore loudly. Finally prying his eyes open he glanced over the edge of the bed. The remains of what used to be a glass lay broken on the floor. Water tickled out of the half intact base and pooled lazily around the shards. Even though he couldn't remember much from the night before, Nate knew that in his drunken state he wouldn't have had the forethought to pour himself a glass of water before getting into bed. Maybe Sophie had arrived early and found him passed out. It wouldn't be the first time that she had taken care of him when he was hung over, and he doubted that it would be the last. Nate had half a mind to just leave the mess and go back to sleep, but if Sophie was indeed downstairs he didn't want to leave her alone for too long. The woman was nosey. He knew that she had looked under his bed the first night she had stayed over, even though she told him she hadn’t. Not that she would have found much, just a few old magazines and a pair of dirty socks.   
Taking care not to step on the broken shards, Nate eased his way out of bed and padded barefoot down the stairs. As he hit the bottom stair Nate fully expected to see Sophie in the kitchen making coffee, but the room was empty. Nate frowned, maybe he had gotten himself water before bed. Shaking his head Nate grabbed the roll of paper towels and the dustpan he kept under the kitchen sink. He really needed to stop drinking.   
Clean up took a while, and by the time he was finished he could hear the team talking loudly downstairs. Nate changed quickly. The team knew that he was drinking again, but showing up in the same clothes he wore the day before would probably worry them. The last thing he wanted was for them to decide he needed another intervention. He loved his team, but they really did get hung up on the alcoholic part of his disorder and ignored the functioning part.   
Nate started towards his bedroom door, but stopped when something caught his eye. Half hidden behind the partially open door was a crumpled up ball of dark blue fabric. Nate kicked at the ball with his bare foot. After a moment he realized that he was looking at a pair of tight boxer briefs. A pair of briefs that Nate knew didn't belong to him. For a brief moment he was confused, but then the realization hit him like a bucket of ice water. Eliot, those were Eliot’s underwear. The night before came flooding back to him in a rush of dimly lit sensual images. The team had left a few hours prior, but then Eliot showed back up at the bar. He had taken what had become his normal seat next to Nate and watched with a disapproving look in his piercing blue eyes as Nate ordered another drink. They had slept together, Nate remembered. This wasn't all together unsurprising. Their relationship, if you could call it that, wasn't new. They had been slipping into each others beds since the job with the horses and Eliot’s ex girlfriend.   
Nate had cornered Eliot in the stables after the job, mildly irritated that the younger man hadn't listened to him when he had said the job was over. Eliot was still keyed up and they got in each others faces pretty quickly, trading angry words and glares. One thing led to another and they ended up leaving the stables 30 minutes later considerably more rumpled than when they went in.   
Last night though, last night was different. His memory was still hazy, but he could vaguely remember telling Eliot that he loved him. Nate's breath caught in his throat, and he had to hold onto the doorframe to steady himself. It wasn't that he didn't love Eliot, because he did. Over the past year Nate had found himself falling for the eternally grumpy hitter. He had been working his way up to telling Eliot how he felt when last night happened. When Nate had fallen asleep Eliot was still there. He had thought that Eliot was asleep, but maybe the younger man was faking and waiting until Nate was asleep to slip out. Nate wasn't sure how Eliot had reacted to Nate confessing his love for him. Eliot was hard enough to get a read on when Nate was sober, while drunk it was almost impossible. The fact that he had left his underwear on the floor was telling enough as it was. Eliot didn't forget things, him leaving without them meant that he had left in a hurry. 

“Yo Nate! Man, do we have a job today or what? Cuz if we don't Imma’ go. I got important things to do ya know?” 

Nate rolled his eyes and made his way towards the stairs. Sometimes he wondered if the young hacker could ever be serious. 

“Really man? Do you actually have something to do or do you just want to go play with your fake online friends?” 

“Haven't we talked about this before? Eliot, they aren't fake!” 

“They’re trolls, I know you live in geek land, but in the real world trolls ain’t real.” 

From his position half way down the spiral stairs Nate could see Hardison’s face contort slightly as Eliot laid into him. The two of them often bickered, but this was different. Eliot’s angry scowl and biting words made it obvious that he was genuinely irritated with the younger man. 

“Eliot, man, I-” 

“No Hardison! Friends are people you spent time with in person, not watch run around on a screen. You would have some if you weren't so obsessed with your little electronic devices.” 

For a moment everything seemed to freeze. Sophie and Parker stared at Eliot in shock from their spots on the couch, obviously not prepared for his angry outburst. Hardison, on the other hand, looked hurt. 

“I thought we were friends man,” He said, his voice barely a whisper. 

Eliot glowered and opened his mouth to respond, but Nate broke in before he could. 

“Eliot! In the hallway, now!” Nate didn't even turn to see if Eliot was following him, instead he stalked past everyone and out the door, letting it slam loudly behind him. Nate paced for a brief moment before he stopped and leaned against the wall opposite the door. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair with a sigh. He didn't know what he wanted to say to the angry hitter. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Eliot’s bad mood was the result of the night before. Nate glanced up as the door softly clicked. Eliot opened it just enough to slip through. He didn't move any farther though, choosing instead to stand pressed up against the wooden frame. If Nate didn't know better he would think that Eliot was being submissive. The silence stretched on between them, becoming more and more tense the longer it went. Finally Nate couldn't take it anymore. 

“I remember you know.” He ducked his head and scuffed at the floor with his toe. “Last night I mean, I remember the things I said to you.” 

Nate heard, more than saw, when Eliot dropped his head back against the wood behind him. The younger man’s eyes were closed and his face was pinched. For a brief moment a look of undisguised hurt flashed across his face. 

“It doesn't matter Nate, just forget about it, it’s fine.” 

“Obviously it’s not fine. You’re being an ass to Hardison for absolutely no reason.”

Eliot snarled angrily, eyes snapping open to stare at Nate. “You think that was about last night? Are you really that full of yourself that you think-”

“This isn't about what I think it’s about what I know. You’re a lot of things Eliot, but nasty for no reason isn't one of them. You’re the one who took off in the middle of the night without a word. If what I said upset you so much then why didn't you stick around to talk to me about it?” 

“You were drunk Nate!” Eliot’s whole body shook, radiating anger. “You got black out drunk and said you loved me while you were balls deep in my ass! You didn't mean it! It didn't matter!” 

Furious, Nate surged forward, getting right up in Eliot’s face. “If it didn't matter why did you run off? Why are you treating Hardison like shit?” 

“Because I wanted it to be true!” Eliot’s words were quiet and shaky, the complete opposite of his previously angry tone. It was almost as if he admitted his feelings too loudly he would break into a million pieces. Eliot bowed his head, long dark hair obscuring his face from Nate’s view. 

All the fight drained out of Nate in an instant. Once again his drinking had hurt someone, and this time the person he hurt was someone he cared dearly about.   
“Who said it wasn't true?” Nate reached out slowly and forced Eliot’s chin up. To his absolute horror the younger man had tear tracks glistening on his flushed cheeks. He gently cupped Eliot’s face in his hands and wiped the hitters tears away with his thumbs. Eliot had faced so much violence in his life, beatings and torture that Nate couldn't even begin to dream about, and never once had he seen the man cry. From cracked ribs and concussions, to facing Damien Moreau, he had never shed a single tear. Now, however, he was crying. New tears replaced the old ones faster than Nate could wipe them away, and the older man’s soul ached. He had taken this strong independent man, and shattered him. Much like the glass of water he had knocked off the nightstand only an hour earlier.   
“I let the whiskey talk last night, I’ll admit that, but that doesn't mean that what I said wasn't true. Obviously I didn't say enough to convince you, hell, I don't know why I even expected you to believe me. I never once took the time to show you that you meant more to me than just a casual hookup. Maybe I just wasn't ready to admit it to myself, let alone someone else. I don't remember everything from last night, and I’m hungover as all hell right now, but I do know that I woke up today alone in a cold bed. I won’t lie to you, it took me a moment to remember what happened last night, but even when I couldn't remember I still knew I missed you. I missed the way you look when you sleep, and the way you smile at me when I’m the first thing you see after you wake up. I love how you can be so tough, yet so gentle at the same time. You have an amazing heart Eliot, and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how special you are. I can’t promise you that whatever we have will last forever, but it’s morning and I'm sober, and I still love you every bit as much as I did last night.” 

“Nate,” Eliot’s shoulders shook as a quiet sob forced it’s way out of his throat. “I don't know what to say,” More tears slid silently down his face. “No one has ever said anything like that to me before.” 

Nate frowned. “Said what? That they loved you?” 

Eliot nodded. He tried to turn his face away from Nate, but the older man held him in place. 

“Not even Aimee?” 

Eliot shook his head, flushing even brighter red. 

“Well you’re going to have to get used to hearing it, because if you let me, I’ll make sure to tell you just how much you mean to me every single day.” 

For a moment no one moved. They were still standing chest to chest, almost touching. Nate was about to pull away and go back to the team when Eliot moved. He surged forward and pressed his lips to Nate’s. The kiss was chaste, but it was by no means tame. Shivers shot down Nate’s spine and he tangled his fingers in Eliot’s hair. Nate pulled back when his need for air outweighed his desire to never stop kissing his hitter. He rested his forehead on Eliot’s, breathing unevenly, and stared unblinking into the bright blue eyes that shyly lifted to meet his own. 

“I love you Eliot Spencer,” He whispered. “I love you and I’m stone cold sober.”


End file.
